


Lime juice and other hazards

by lotsofstuffandpaper



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Asgard, Danger, Friendship, Science, lime juice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 16:24:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3453953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotsofstuffandpaper/pseuds/lotsofstuffandpaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is raining and Darcy is bored.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lime juice and other hazards

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scribblemyname](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemyname/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy reading this and please tell me whether you did.

“Darcy, what are you doing?”, Jane cries after entering the kitchen to find the younger woman lounging on a barstool with her feet propped up on another barstool; a neat row of shot glasses lined the counter in front of her.  

“Lime juice shots”, Darcy responds while lifting a glass to her lips and knocking back the bright green liquid inside.

“Lime juice shots? Why on earth would you…? Why do we even have lime juice?” asks Jane, her face sporting a rather confused expression.

 “No idea”, replies Darcy with a casual shrug of her shoulders. Jane hasn’t waited for an answer and is now crouching on the floor behind the counter, rummaging through various drawers and cupboard doors. Darcy leans over the counter and almost knocks over half of the shot glasses. She readjusts her glasses as she peers down over the kitchen counter and asks Jane what on earth she is doing.

The astrophysicist says something but due to the large box full of multicoloured and mostly broken pots her head is hidden in, Darcy doesn’t understand a single word.

“What?”

Jane pulls her head out of the box and repeats, “I am looking for alcohol. Preferably in liquid form.” The woman perched on the barstools raises an eyebrow in question. “You’re working.”

Jane throws up her hands in annoyance. “I don’t want to drink it. I need it for the…sandwich maker thing.” Darcy’s eyebrow rises even higher and she snorts, “The sandwich maker thing?”

The smaller woman nods rapidly. “Yes. I need to adjust the- Do we have any alcohol or not, Darcy?”, Jane asks, now uncomfortably shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Darcy is still staring at her boss in wonder; her eyebrow seemingly frozen in an arch below her forehead. “The sandwich maker thing? I got you. I totally got you”, she says triumphantly, knocking back another shot of juice in celebration.

The older woman sighs. “Please, can you tell me whether we have alcohol or not?”, Jane asks again, her voice audibly strained. The assistant puts her glass down on the marred surface of the counter.

“I used up all of it for this”, she responds, motioning towards the remaining shot glasses. Jane’s gaze follows her outstretched hand.

“Well, then I have to go out and buy some”. The older woman sighs and is already heading for the hall to grab her shoes and coat when Darcy jumps off the barstools.  

“In your pyjamas? In the middle of the night? There could be murderers and wild animals and… and things. Scary, flesh devouring things. Or aliens. Don’t forget the aliens and their love for destruction. I mean, seriously, they are worse than humans. At least we only destroy each other. On earth. Not Asgard or wherever. Jane, can’t you wait and go to sleep or something?”, Darcy worriedly blunders, biting her red painted lips. Jane stills just as she is pulling her coat over her left arm and turns to face her assistant.

“I need to buy alcohol. I am close to fixing this machine and I need to do it now. I’ll be back in ten minutes, alright?” Jane pauses for a moment and then adds, “I _am_ more concerned about your stomach’s reaction to all that lime juice.”

Darcy gently shoves Jane’s arm. “Fruit juice is healthy”, she retorts pouting slightly. “And if you’re not back in ten minutes I will call the police.”                                                                                          

Jane, who has managed to pull on her left boot by now, shakes her head, a small smile painting her lips. She is used to Darcy worrying about her, but usually the younger woman is more subtle about it.

She will peek through the door of her lab or drag her into the kitchen to try some of the delicious food she ordered in so Jane eats. When Jane falls asleep working, she often wakes up with a blanket or a sweatshirt draped around her. So she knows Darcy can be oddly protective. What surprises her is the fact that she is saying something instead of simply being there.

It might be a bit silly and overdramatic for Darcy to react this way, but Jane likes having someone who cares.

“Fine”, she says as she leans forward to put her tiny hands on her assistant’s shoulder in a gesture she hopes is reassuring. Then she brushes past Darcy back into the kitchen, takes a shot glass and downs it in one swift motion. Her face contorts into a grimace before she runs back to Darcy and holds up the empty glass accusingly.

“You put salt in them”, she whispers and sounds almost shocked.

The younger brunette shrugs. “Thought I’d save myself the licking.”

There is a silent moment during which Jane is simply looking at Darcy intently like she is the sandwich maker thing and Jane hasn’t figured out how to deal with her yet. Darcy has her brow furrowed, her mouth is slightly sucked in and her eyes are nervously glancing away.

“At least I’m awake now”, Jane says as she shudders.

“And drunk”, Darcy cannot help but add; relieved the tension is finally gone. The scientist stares at Darcy in disbelief although her brown eyes are sparkling with amusement and says, “See you later, Darcy.”

She wraps a deep purple scarf around her neck, puts on her other boot, and gives the younger a reassuring nod before grabbing her wallet and umbrella. Then she is out the door, the apartment silent except for the rain pattering against the windows.

“I can’t believe you succumbed to my `entirely inadequate naming system`!”, Darcy yells as the door falls shut behind Jane.

Darcy has just settled herself comfortably in front of the remaining shots when the ringing of the doorbell cuts through the calming monotonous beat of the rain. She groans more out of habit than anything and hops down from the stool to slink to the front door. On the wayshe bumps into the doorframe with her big toe and the unmotivated slinking turns into unmotivated hopping accompanied by loud cursing. Reaching the door, she almost swings it open on the spot but then catches herself just in time and squints through the peephole.

On the threshold stands a tall woman clad in armour, water is dripping from every inch of metal and fabric covering her and her wet ponytail is dangling limply over her shoulder. Her fiercely burning eyes are fixed on the door, embedded in a face that looks like it is set in stone. She is terrifying and Darcy has absolutely no intention of opening the door to her. Partly because she is fairly certain the woman is from Asgard. Her armour is too expertly fashioned to be a costume and the metal plates are covered in minute symbols. Some of them look similar to the symbols she saw on Mjölnir. Then there is the braids running along the sides of her head and the rigid stance of a soldier. In the past few good things happened whenever an Asgardian warrior showed up on their doorstep.   

“Miss Foster, I am truly sorry to bother you at this late hour but it is very important that I speak to you”, the warrior says. The sound of her voice is muffled by the door but the urgency is evident. Inside the apartment, Darcy still has not made up her mind what to do when the other woman adds, “It concerns your safety.”

She speaks in a strained voice, with eyes aflame and yet full of concern and worry etched across her face. So Darcy turns the lock and finally opens the door. She doesn’t open it fully, just about half, although she knows if the Asgardian in front of her wanted to, she would probably take her down in a second.  

“Hi”, is all Darcy can say at first. “Come in, please. Lady Sif”, she continues after swallowing in an attempt to squelch the unease sliding up through her belly.

For some reason, Darcy has always been in awe of Thor with his blatantly obvious strength but kind of afraid of Sif with her unwavering loyalty and deep compassion.

She just seems so much more alien than he is. However, what is going on is probably important, otherwise Sif hadn’t shown up here. After what happened in New Mexico, Darcy’s mind wouldn’t stop reeling with the knowledge that the ancient Norse gods were alive. Back home she went to the university library and instead of studying for her exams she combed through anything she could find on Norse mythology.

She started reading out of curiosity and because it might help Jane’s research, but soon she stayed up all night reading whatever she could get her hands on.

Therefore, Darcy figured out who the woman on the other side of the door was pretty quick. There aren’t many female warriors with double-swords, dark hair that looked just a bit out of place and a stare too intense for casual conversation. After a moment, Darcy pulls herself together and fully opens the door to let the woman in.

“Hello Darcy”, Sif greets her with a tight lipped smile and steps into the apartment where her dripping clothes start leaving puddles immediately.                                          

“Why are you here?”, Darcy replies, crossing her arms in front of her chest. It comes out more aggressive than she intended. Sif doesn’t react to it though, she only tries and fails to dry her face with her soaked sleeve before responding.

“The All-Father has sent me to escort Jane Foster and you to Asgard where you will be protected”, she says, her teeth clenched tightly.

“Oh, okay”, is Darcy’s only response, because this could not get any stranger. “You want a pop tart?”                                                                         

Sif jerks her head from side to side. Her hands are pressed firmly onto her thighs, like she needs to hold them in place to keep calm. “Thank you, but I will decline your offer”, she breathes hurriedly, trying to avoid scaring the girl standing on the other side of the counter. Darcy tilts her head to the side and smiles. For the first time since the alien warrior has stepped into the apartment, she doesn’t feel intimidated. “Do you actually know what a pop tart is?“, she says, her smile widening as she speaks.

Sif chuckles quietly, the sound reverberating low in her chest. “I do know what a pop tart is”, she responds, her momentarily bright eyes swirling with the darkness of memories once again. “Thor is very fond of that particular dish.” There is something oddly comforting about the way the Asgardians speak in an accent that is not found on Earth.  ~~  
~~

“Dish? It’s more like sugar pressed into a rectangle you can toast”, Darcy says and then skips ahead into the kitchen, motioning Sif to follow her. She drags a chair from the dining table and stands on the seat so she can reach the top shelf stuffed full of pop tart boxes. After a bit of shufflingaround, she finds the chocolate ones hidden in the back. Just as she gets hold of the carton, her foot slips of thechair but no worries, Sif is already there, catching her with one hand and grabbing the box of pop tarts with the other in one fell sweep.

As she offers one to Sif, she is not sure how long she can keep avoiding the reason why Sif came down to Earth, but for now it seems to be working. It’s not like Darcy to hide from problems, but in the past, anything to do with Asgard and other realms has been nothing short of horrifying, so excuse her for not wanting to deal with that again.  

By the time the pop tarts are done, Sif is perched on a barstool, emptying her second shot glass. “This is really good”, the still thoroughly soaked Asgardian says.

Darcy eyes her intently while slowly chewing her pop tart. “Are you going to tell me why Jane is in danger?”, she eventually demands to know because although she is afraid, she is also worriedabout her friend. Sif starts playing with the empty shot glass, sliding her index finger along the rim and then stopping it with her palm every time the glass begins to spin.

“Thor is in Valhalla”, she says, her voice cracking halfway through the sentence. Small pools of water are brimming above the waterline of her eyes. None of it drops down her cheeks, but there is a wet, raspy sound to her voice. She is clenching her jaw tightly, frustration flashing beneath the tears in her eyes.                                                                         

 “Thor is in Valhalla? As in he’s dead?”, Darcy asks with the tone of someone who can’t quite believe what they are saying. Sif shakes her head and starts to explain but she barely got three sentences out when the lock of the front door turns and there is a loud squeal followed by the sound of a body hitting the floor.

Sif is in the hall immediately, helping a swearing Jane up. Darcy grudgingly follows, half-eaten pop tart in hand.

“What are you doing here?”, Jane asks as she eyes Sif curiously.

“She’s escorting us to Asgard apparently”, the younger woman explains between bites of pop tart. “You want one too?”, she adds, holding out the last piece of pastry.               

“No, I don’t”, Jane says after putting the shopping bag down on the dresser. Her hair is almost as wet as Sif’s and there are little droplets covering her coat in a silvery hue. Pushing wet strands out of her face, Jane turns to Sif and says, “Please explain.”

Sif nods grimly and Darcy wishes she had some food left so she could take her anxiety out on that. Sif starts again with what Darcy already knows. That after Loki’s death, Thor decided to go to Valhalla to make sure his brother had gotten his place amongst the greatest warriors. Many in Asgard, including Sif, although she doesn’t specifically say it, thought it inappropriate and a bad idea.

Thor, however, was not to be stopped so they let him go.

Jane and Darcy are in danger because apparently whenever someone still alive enters Valhalla, specific gates have to be opened and then, it is not only possible to enter, but also to exit. And the warriors who exit tend to be of the cruel and vicious sort, no doubt willing to seek revenge. Jane’s expression turns slowly into one of deeper exasperation the more Sif tells them.

“Why did you let him go in the first place if these warriors are so dangerous? I don’t understand. Isn’t Valhalla for the finest warriors? People loyal to the king? Why would they threaten us?”, Jane exclaims, her face growing pink with excitement. The warrior’s face remains a tight mask as she says, “Thor has made enemies in his youth. They are not particularly forgiving.”

The small astrophysicist shakes her head. “I don’t believe you. I mean, I don’t fully understand the connection between the realms yet, but I think it is unlikely these warriors will come here.”                

“Don’t forget about the Dark Elves”, Darcy chimes in.

When Sif speaks again, there is a new urgency in her voice. Darcy is surprised by the intensity, although it scares her how these emotions never go beyond the eyes. Eyes burning and fizzling with emotion and a face as cold as marble. It is scary but also hot. In a strange way. 

“Jane Foster, you are important to Thor. Therefore, you can be used against him. It is not likely these vile creatures will leave Valhalla, but it is a possibility. I am one of Asgard’s finest warriors and I have sworn to do whatever is necessary to protect it. Thor being compromised would put us all in danger. I may not understand or even agree with the All-Father, but I must follow his orders. So please come with me. I would hate to force you.” When Sif finishes her speech, there is a silence that seems too long to fit into the small space between the three of them.

No one moves until Jane opens the fists she has made with her hands and says, “I need to pack some things.”

She hurries past Sif without waiting for a response. Darcy just stands around, knowing it is better to leave Jane alone when she is angry. There is something off here. She hasn’t figured it out yet, but Sif is not on board with this at all. Whatever this may be.

Darcy watches the woman who appears to be not comfortable with anything she is doing here at all. The silence is starting to suffocate her, so she says the first thing that pops into her mind. “Would you really have taken us against our will?”

Sif’s head snaps up. “It is my mission to bring you to Asgard, regardless the circumstances.” Darcy’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. She wasn’t expecting an honest answer, but now she needs to know more.

“And you’re okay with that?”, she pries further.                      

 “It is not my place to make such an assessment”, is all she gets before Jane returns and they have to leave.

As the air around them grows light and fuzzy, and as they pick up speed, Jane squeezes her hand tightly. Darcy presses her fingers against the back of Jane’s hand in return.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
